Back, forth and forth and back
Sings the metal seesaw rack
Creaking the boisterous bolts loud,
And louder still the higher up allowed.
The sound of the sweet seesaw feel;
Springing with squeaks and squeals
Beating bandits in the Wild West
On their mare with a cowboy vest
And suddenly yell, “thar she blows.”
The steed now a ship; they row, row, row
To get to land to get their treasure to…
But mom calls, “It’s time to go.”
And saddened left alone the seesaw,
Slowly creaking to a still silencing awe
But back and forth and forth and back
Again sings the metal seesaw rack.